Thyrsis had never heard such a speech as this in his life. When it was over, he went up to the platform where Darrell sat, looking more exhausted and pain-driven than ever; and in a few hesitating words he told of his interest, and asked for the speaker’s address, that he might write to him. And that night he posted a letter, introducing himself as a young writer, who felt impelled to learn more about Darrell’s ideas.
In reply came a note from the other, asking him to dine with him; and Thyrsis answered accepting.
Then, as chance would have it, he mentioned the circumstance to his mother. “Darrell!” she cried. “You don’t mean Henry Darrell!”
“Yes,” said Thyrsis. “Why?”
“And you would meet that man?”
“Why not?” he asked, perplexed.
“Haven’t you read anything about him in the papers? T
